Every first Saturday
by sarbey
Summary: AU A new professional companion intrigues Gregory House and with her appearance in his life his routine is thrown into chaos. Well meaned advices from his best friend, two curious ducklings and the mob don't really make things easier. HouseCameron
1. Chapter 1

A/N Well you probably want to know something about the story. Ok, there will be smut, and a bit of romance and smut and some action. Did I mention smut? Really just something to get my muse back on track after four weeks of not writing and studying for my finals. On a happy note, the next chapter for a tangled web is almost finished. And then I have to go back to studying. Damn. Should probably add that this story is very AU. And it's HouseCameron. As if I could write anything else.

Disclaimer is in my profile, now enjoy!

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Dim light from the streets barely illuminated the townhouse at this time of the night

Gregory House, world-renowned diagnostician and Princeton's very own misanthropic bastard sat on his couch willing away the spikes of pain that shot through his thigh and leg. On days like this, when the vicodin had as much an effect on the pain as a placebo he was tempted to take up the offer of relieve and escape the little green box on the top shelf of his book case held,

well hidden behind an antique medicine compendium consisting of twelve books, nice to look at but absolutely useless in modern times.

He knew he shouldn't even be thinking about it, he was a doctor for Pete's sake, he knew the dangers of taking the drug, plus he'd promised Cuddy to never shot up on morphine again.

But then, he broke his promises regularly so why not this one as well?

Every time he neared the point of surrendering to the pain and taking the syringe out a little voice held him back, probably the still lingering leftovers from his well-buried conscience, a voice that had over the years started to sound suspiciously like a certain brown eyed oncologist.

Damn that man and his pathological need to meddle in other people's life.

'Hypocrite', the voice taunted him again, 'you're just as bad if not worse.'

Yeah, but he only did it to satisfy his curiosity, Wilson always wanted to fix things.

He grimaced when another wave of pain shoot up his leg and with shaking hands he fumbled with the cap of the little orange bottle that had been his constant companion for the last six years and popped it open a little too hastily causing the constants to spill all over the coffee table.

Cursing under his breath he scooped up two of the little white pills and swallowed them dry for the moment not caring about the mess he'd made.

He would take care of that when he was able to move again.

The next hours passed in a haze of the heavy drugs that numbed his mind with the even for him unusual high dose he'd taken that evening.

Nearing midnight he was actually lucid enough again to pick up the rest of the vicodin and put them back into their container.

Disgusted he noticed that he'd obviously spent the last few hours sweating like a pig because he now smelled like one.

Just when he emerged the shower his doorbell announced the arrival of the midnight visitor he knew would be at his door around this time.

He smirked a little, anticipating the promise of escape and oblivion that currently waited behind his front door. He'd long since given up on feeling guilt or remorse after these encounters but sometimes they left a shale taste in his mouth.

Which was the reason why he never let them stay after they'd gone down to business, not that he'd ever heard any complaints, he knew he was good and he'd always taken pride in the fact that no woman left his bed unsatisfied.

Even hookers.

And Cheryl would just be the right one to get his mind off the pain and on to other more pleasurable things.

He opened the door with just a towel covering him, his chest and hair still damp from his earlier shower.

He stopped and his eyes widened in surprise at the sight that greeted him.

Long milky white legs clad in four-inch heels and black stockings. A short black leather skirt hugged a temptingly slim waist and a dark red satin top that showed just enough cleavage to make any sane male drool completed the outfit.

He took in the long dark curls spilling over her shoulder and the pale face with luscious full red lips and sea coloured eyes.

A tempting and alluring vision indeed just not the usual one.

"You're not Cheryl." He stated the obvious causing his opponent to smile slightly, a reaction she tried to hide though.

"No, I'm not. Cheryl is not working for Dave anymore. She decided to try her luck in Vegas. I was sent as her replacement." She shrugged slightly suddenly seeming insecure and he found himself intrigued something that didn't happen very often with strangers.

Especially not those that he occasionally spent the night with.

"If I don't suffice I can go and Dave will send somebody else."

"No." he stopped her, a hand on her arm his eyes searching hers, looking for something, what he didn't know.

He stepped back and made room for her to enter and she smiled a shy smile and graciously flowed past him into the condo.

He closed the door with an audible click and took in the small figure standing nervously in the middle of his living room.

'Patience' he scolded himself, for some reason he wanted to know more about the woman, wanted to identify the pain that lurked in her eyes for he had recognized it as a part of his own.

She was tense, too tense for his liking.

"Unclench…" his voice was low and rough and unconsciously she responded to the hidden order and he could see her shoulders slacking as she visibly relaxed.

He smirked and made his way over to the table where he'd left an expensive bottle of scotch earlier that day.

"Have a seat, drink?" he asked and she nodded taking a deep shaky breath.

She was nervous.

Interesting.

She sat down while he poured two shots of scotch and he observed her behaviour.

She graciously folded one leg over the other causing the skirt to reveal more of her skin.

He hissed and his groin twitched at the sight of a garter belt and he had to remind himself to be patient again.

He wanted to fuck her.

No surprise there, that was after all the reason she was currently sitting on his couch nervously chewing on her bottom lip but what surprised him were the various fantasies that flew through his mind while he watched her tongue dart out to wet her lips.

Those lips.

He imagine them wrapped around his cock, the dark red lipstick smearing over the hot skin, imagined those eyes darken to an emerald green, almost black with arousal.

He wanted her looking at him, begging him with those eyes to fuck her hard and fast, to push his throbbing length into her hot core and make her scream.

Usually he only looked for a temporary relief, to take his mind off of the pathetic thing he called his life.

All the more reason to explore the woman on his couch.

"What may I call you?" he asked while placing the amber coloured liquid in front of her on the coffee table and her head jerked up, obviously startled.

"What?" she asked and he almost smiled at the confused look on her face but he kept his expression dark and unreadable only the barest hint of arousal shone in his ice blue eyes.

"Your name." He inquired again and she blushed.

This time he couldn't keep himself from chuckling.

"Dave calls me Cam."

"Cam…" he let the name roll of his tongue well aware that it was probably not her real one or maybe a shortening of her real name.

She took a sip of her drink and his arousal became almost painful upon the sight of her lips closing around the rim of the glass.

The alcohol seemed to have renewed her confidence because now she silently raised herself from her seat and sauntered towards him a slight swing in her hips.

She took his glass from his hand and carelessly put it on the table causing the dark liquid to almost swap onto the polished wooden surface.

A single neatly manicured finger traced his bottom lip and he resisted the urge to taste her capturing her wrist instead.

He tsked her and tugged her forwards until her soft curves tightly pressed against the hard planes of his chest.

She gasped when her body came in contact with his obvious arousal.

His right hand hold her hip while his left brushed away the dark curls from her shoulder and he lowered his mouth to the soft skin just below her ear.

Her breathing quickened and her pulse accelerated.

He nipped at the skin, gently at first but soon he lost himself in the taste of her.

_Fuck patience_

She moaned and brought her hands to his shoulders to steady herself. His hand on her hip wandered upwards and under the silky little top she was wearing. With a swift move he divested her of the flimsy garment leaving her in a black lace bra that matched the garter belt he'd spied earlier.

_Patience was definitely overrated_

One of her hands languidly stroked down his bare chest and to the fastening of the towel that barely covered his throbbing length.

A flick with her fingers and the towel fell to the ground.

The next moment she surprised him by dropping to her knees and bringing herself on eye level with his cock.

She looked up and he could see the heat burning in her eyes turning them into a dark emerald green much like his imagination had taunted him with earlier.

She held his gaze while licking her lips and even though starting the evening like this hadn't been his original plan he buried a hand in her hair in anticipation.

Her tongue darted out and she licked his entire length, one hand safely grasping him at the base.

He groaned at that first contact.

She began to swirl that delicious pink torture device around the head and into the slit tasting the single drop of pre cum.

His eyes screwed shut when she closed those gorgeous lips around him, enveloping him in the moist warmth.

_God_

In one swift move she took his him into hr mouth, all the way down, every delicious inch and he had to grip the table behind him to stop his knees from giving out.

_Fuck_

Vaguely he was aware of the faint throb in his thigh and it occurred to him that he hadn't even watched her reaction to his scar, too caught up in the moment.

She set a slow pace sliding his cock in and out of her mouth and if he had still been able to look down he would have noticed another one of his earlier visions coming true.

It wouldn't be the last one that night.

When her other hand cupped his balls and gently massaged them he was a goner. With a jerk of his hips he felt his release shooting up his spine and spilled himself into her receiving mouth.

She didn't pull back until she had swallowed everything he had to give.

As he was able to coherent thoughts again he looked down into very satisfied looking green eyes.

She good up and attempted to walk past him but he caught her arm.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked still breathless from his recent orgasm and she just raised an eyebrow pointedly looking at his now flaccid length. But he shook his head in response to her silent question.

"I'm not finished with you. Bedroom, second door on the left." He motioned to the hallway. "Give me ten minutes." He added and she complied though with a definite question in her eyes

When she turned around he closed his eyes and took a deep breath wondering what the hell had just happened.

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I'm going to have a drink after rereading this. Meanwhile you can tell me what you think. You know you want to. :-)


	2. Chapter 2

A/N well, 'blushes' more smut...'smirk'

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Trying to catch his breath and bringing some semblance of control into this evening again House leaned on the table behind him and breathed deeply, eyes screwed shut.

The last few minutes left him speechless, completely and utterly speechless.

Which was a rather rare occurrence for him.

The woman that had just entered his condo and given him the probably, no scratch that she'd definitely given him the best blow job of his life and that included every hooker and girlfriend he'd had before her.

In an attempt to regain his composure he took the glass of single malt from the table behind him and downed it at once.

Nothing like a strong twenty years old scotch to put things into perspective again.

Suddenly feeling slightly insecure in his currently very exposed position he picked up the discarded towel and tied it around his waist again, an irrational move maybe but then the whole evening had started rather irrational.

And he had the feeling it would stay that way.

For a brief moment he wondered what Wilson would say to his current line of thoughts. The well-meaning, caring best friend he was. Wilson had never really approved of his chosen companions for every first Saturday of the month, House still wasn't sure that Wilson even believed that he had this kind of contact on a regular basis.

It was ironic, really. Over the years he'd confused every single one of his acquaintances with his lies and deceptions in a way that it had become impossible even for his best friend to decipher lies from truths.

Everybody lied; he was no difference.

Slowly he made his way to the bedroom using the walls to steady his gait his cane still lying next to the couch where he'd carelessly thrown it earlier.

Upon entering the bedroom he silently thanked every deity his atheistic self didn't believe in that Cheryl had thrown in the towel and he got this alluring brunette instead.

She sat on the edge of the bed, again having this slightly insecure look in her eyes that he'd found so intriguing earlier that night.

God, what was it about this woman that had him feeling like a teenager again? He'd just come very hard in that pretty little mouth of hers and already he felt himself building up for another round.

But first he wanted to explore her.

Gregory House was an insanely curious man and nothing held his attention like a puzzle and he'd just been handed a very complicated one on a silver platter.

The woman currently sitting on the edge of his bed was full of contradictions and he couldn't wait to uncover the reasons for every single one.

She stood up and with a wicked gleam in her eyes sauntered over to him and for a moment he marvelled how she could go from shy and innocent to sexy seductress in so little time.

His thoughts did a one eighty when her fingertips grazed the sensitive skin on his abs and he hissed.

She smirked.

Once again she lazily flicked her fingers and the towel still cowering him fell to the ground.

He caught her wrist in one of his hands and brought her hand to his mouth where he pressed a kiss to her palm.

Her eyes fluttered and closed and it was his turn to smirk.

With a gentle shove he pushed her back onto the bed and soon followed his body covering hers. With renewed fervour he attacked her neck alternatively sucking and liking at the skin earning him an aroused whimper from his bed partner.

Her hands gripped his shoulders and her legs wound around his hips grinding her hot core against his hardness.

His hands weren't idle either and he attempted to divest her of the tight red top that prevented them from being skin to skin. It got tangled in her hair when he had it half way up and she giggled making him scowl. He nimble fingers came up to help him and soon enough he had a pretty amazing view on the two perfect mounds of soft skin that had been hidden underneath.

No bra.

He swallowed hard.

His lips descended on one of the rosy puckered tips and sucked causing her hands to grip his hair.

He grinned against her skin.

His mouth wandered lower, nipping and sucking at the skin while she writhed beneath him. Hands following the trail he reached the hem of the black skirt and pushed it upwards revealing delicious inches of milky white skin. She helped him by popping the button and lowering the zipper and together they slowly slid the soft leather down her thighs.

No panties.

_Oh God._

He looked up into blazing green eyes before his mouth descended on her core. With single-minded determination he feasted on her, exploring the soft folds and watched fascinated, as her flesh grew redder with his ministrations.

Giving her one last what he hoped was calming caress he crawled up her body again. Before he had time to contemplate the gleam in her eyes he found himself flipped over and her on top. In her right hand she was holding a little red something he instantly recognized. He watched mesmerized while she ripped it open with her teeth and removed the wrapper. Her tongue darted out and she secured the preservative with her lips.

Wriggling a bit she crawled lower until she was sitting on his thighs.

It occurred to him that she'd obviously been aware of his leg the whole time because she was more than just careful to not put to much pressure on the damaged muscle.

Her right hand gripped his length and slowly lowering her head she…

_Holy. Fucking. Shit. _

Who would have thought, that that was even possible. Slowly, oh so slowly she rolled the condom onto his throbbing length.

With her lips.

He hissed and gritted his teeth. Slowly she crawled up his body again until she was poised above him and with excruciating patience she lowered herself onto his erection until she had taken his whole length at once.

He fought to keep his sanity intact while she started to move above him, setting a fast and very satisfying rhythm. His hands griped her hips and she rolled her hips in response.

Fuck

If he didn't get control of this very fast he would loose it and he wasn't going to come until he'd send her over the edge, screaming.

Gathering every ounce of strength he could find in his body he flipped them back over causing her to shriek in surprise.

He gripped her thigh with one hand and brought her leg higher around his body giving him more leverage to reach even deeper. When she attempted to speed up again his palm landed on her ass with a sounding noise and she moaned at the slight sting it left on her flesh.

_His show._

His thrusts grew shallower with each stroke and soon enough he could feel her internal muscles fluttering, gripping him.

He brought his hand to the place where their bodies joined and flicked her clit once. It was enough to send her over the edge and at the feeling of her velvet depths contracting around him he lost it as well. Burying his head in the crock of her neck he followed her, her sweat-covered skin muffling his roar.

His sweating body came to rest above her and only his strong arms holding him up prevented her from being crushed.

For a moment he was tempted to kiss her full, luscious lips but he caught himself just in time, remembering that most woman in her profession had a special set of rules against kissing.

Normally he preferred to avoid that kind of intimacy as well so why this sudden impulse to kiss her?

Not having enough energy to comprehend that problem anymore he pulled out of her and landed on his back next to her.

Silence descended over the room only their still quite heavy breathing could still be heard.

He felt her moving after a while and the mattress raised a few inches when she obviously got up and gathered her clothes.

"Next month again, same time?" she asked, her voice low and rough.

Somehow he knew it would be equal to parachuting only without the parachute if he saw her again but at that moment he couldn't, wouldn't care less. To tempting was the dark haired seductress waiting patiently for his answer.

He did have an addictive personality: vicodin, scotch, women, it didn't matter. When he found something that took his mind of the pain he grasped it with both hands and didn't let go.

Only this was the first time it had happened with a woman, so jumping or not jumping that was the question.

"Yeah." He managed to croak out.

_Jumping._

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Thanks for your reviews, you're awesome, 'grins' cookies for everyone!


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